


Mornings With You

by Reachingplacebo



Category: Hot Fuzz (2007)
Genre: Drabble, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:47:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29805879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reachingplacebo/pseuds/Reachingplacebo
Summary: Angel and Danny eat breakfast together as has become part of their daily routine since they moved in together. It's platonic until it isn't.
Relationships: Nicholas Angel/Danny Butterman
Kudos: 16





	Mornings With You

**Author's Note:**

> watched this movie with some friends and immediately pulled up my computer to write this when I got home.

It’s another dry Thursday morning in Sanford, England, and partners (in the strictly platonic buddy-cop formula sense) Danny and Angel are eating breakfast together. As per usual, Danny sits on the right side of the kitchen table and Angel on the left.*

(*This is where it’s important to note that Angel has, ever since the ancient-mine-at-police-station fiasco, moved in with Danny. It’s, or was, primarily done to make it easier for Angel by having Danny nearby to help him with tasks that were too difficult to perform with his unhealed wounds. As Angel healed and could stretch his arms above his head again, the strict sense of duty has gradually warped into something more domestic, such as bickering over chores or falling asleep in front of the TV together. And if Danny tilted his head against Angel’s shoulder sometimes, feigning sleep, it was nobody’s business but his. But they’re mates, only mates, Angel tells himself before he rests his head on top of Danny’s and sinks into sleep as well.)

It’s the middle of July and it hasn’t rained for a week which is a blessing, the British isles considered. 

Some morning radio show about the weather crackles through the dusty speakers on an old radio sitting by the window and the host promises a continuation of the summer miracle. Danny is too preoccupied questioning the stagnating lack of toys in new cereal boxes to listen to it and Angel is too busy catching up on the latest news. One thing Angel would never admit out loud is the fact that ever since the cult killings, the quality of the news has vastly improved.*

*Apologies, Mr Messenger.

“That’s the fourth time” Danny counts and the accidental clink as he hits his spoon against the porcelain bowl’s edge catches Angel’s attention. 

“Fourth time what?” Angel asks behind the newspapers. Today’s headline: Prized Agility Dog Escapes Cage during Night; Terrorises Gardens High on Poison Berries. 

“Our feet touch.” 

Angel has become so familiar with all the little things Danny does or says he’s not at all surprised by the odd remark. 

“What of it?” He asks without raising his eyes.

“If I didn’t know better I’d say you fancy me,” Danny eats a spoonful of Kellogg’s, “or something.” 

“Or something” Angel repeats amused and turns a page, Danny can hear him stifle laughter, “Two middle-aged men accidentally bumping their bare feet under the breakfast table, a tale as old as time.” 

Danny takes another spoonful of Kellogg’s, begrudgingly, and watches Angel’s calloused fingers on the edge of the papers.

“I don’t know how you do it in the city, but in Sanford, this is flirting” he informs. 

Angel hums, “Oh really? Do you have breakfast clubs where everybody is required to be shoe- and sockless? If the toes intertwine does that indicate a perfect match?” 

“Perhaps,” Danny says in a way that Angel has learnt means he can’t come up with anything clever to say and it irritates him immensely. 

An idea develops at the right side of the table. Angel folds his newspaper right across two times and puts it down on the windowsill before he rises from his chair and pretends that he’s going to the dishwasher with his empty plate and mug. He changes course halfways, he walks around the edge of the table to the left side instead.

Danny puts his spoon down and tilts his head up to ask Angel about the sudden invasion of space but as his mouth opens to form words Angel leans down and plants a shy kiss on his lips. He pulls away just as quickly, clearing his throat. 

“What was that?” Danny asks, unmoving. He looks as embarrassed as Angel feels. 

“That’s how you show someone you fancy them” Angel manages to answer calmly despite the heat rising in his cheeks. He hurries to put his dishes in the sink before Danny can think to kick him out of the house, yell at him or in any other way reject him. 

What the bleeding hell had he done?

Danny pushes his chair out and follows Angel, Kellogg’s, spoon and milk left behind on the table. Angel feels more like a raccoon than a deer caught in a seven-ton truck’s white headlights. 

“You Londoners are always so difficult.”

Angel can’t think of anything clever to retort with, he doesn’t have to either because Danny kisses him and everything is alright with the world. 

“If I didn’t know better I’d say you fancy me or something” Angel whispers when they part. 

Danny is looking at him through lidded eyes, “Not funny” he says without heat and kisses Angel again. 

So maybe they were a bit late for work that morning, the dog couldn’t have gotten that far away anyway.


End file.
